Coming Back
by bluetippedwithlove
Summary: Can you come back from what you've done? Grey has finally found a group of good people and she's trying to fit in, but Rick especially notices she's not quite right. She just wants to get past her past and will do whatever she can to stay with her new group at the prison. Rick & OC, Daryl & OC Rated M for: Language, Gore, and Smut! ON HIATUS ATM BECAUSE I'M MOVING. SORRY!
1. Chapter 1

When I literally stumbled into the prison, I had been so shocked and so full of panic, I had stood, pressed against the gate for probably close to 3 hours.

I had emerged from the thickest bit of forest, out of breath but certain I was far enough away. No one would bother to track me this far. I had escaped.

I had then stood against the fence, a nice thicket of trees covering my body from view, and I watched. I watched the people milling around, going about their day. All activity about a quarter of a mile away from me. No one was going to spot me unless they had walked directly up to my hiding spot and rearranged some serious foliage.

A younger kid with a cowboy hat spent a long time working a part of the field where tufts of vegetables were growing, next to what looked like stables. Littler kids had come out of the prison following a woman to get cooking meat set on their plates.

The place had seemed pretty safe; the people had seemed pretty non threatening. A younger guy and a girl holding hands walked past the guard tower together and took places by the fence, each picking up pikes and punching into the skulls of the few zombies doing basically what I was doing against the fence.

Then the loud noise. I heard a sort of roar off in the distance. It sounded like a motorcycle. _Who else had motorcycles? _For a second, I went into sheer panic mode. _They were coming, they had found me. _

Mentally, I had shaken myself. It doesn't matter. Theres so much forest, theyd never come into this particular patch. Right?

The roaring got louder. My resolve faltered a little bit. I looked around, brain trying to process my slim options. It was then that I had started to move towards the one place that looked like it could potentially provide me sanctuary. Moving along the fence I hurried towards what looked like the main gate of the prison.

The roaring was getting louder. _Shit. _It had started to sound like it was getting uncomfortably close. Had they found the prison too? Maybe I wasn't as far off as I had thought. Maybe they honestly _would_ track someone this far.

I halted in my tracks, on the edge of the forest. Any farther along the fence, Id have been in plain view. To stay hidden, Id have to leave the fence and go farther back to the trees. I had held perfectly still, watching the main gate and the road.

The couple seemed to be busying themselves with chains on the gate. A dusty Dodge truck came into view from the tree line, followed closely by a Harley. Both vehicles were admitted through the set of gates and the drivers had begun to pull supplies out of the back of the truck.

Looked like a guy with a Stetson and dark girl from the truck and a guy with something dangling off his back from the motorcycle.

I had felt my breath woosh back into my lungs. I hadn't realized Id been holding it. It wasn't them. I was safe.

The couple had headed up the guard tower together, I watched one of them grab a pretty hefty looking rifle from the post.

_Ok Grey. Lets go ahead and just get this over with. _

Looking back, I must have still been in more shock than I had realized. This was a dangerous and moronic thing to do, but apparently at the time, seemed perfectly logical. I guess I had just been in a state of needing to feel surrounded by something resembling home. Something safe.

I had then plucked up what remaining courage I had, and stepped out from the trees.

I had nothing on me, except my clothes, but in a show of subordination, I put my hands up, kept my eyes on the group pulling objects out of the truck and had simply begun to walk towards them.

"Hey. HEEEY!" The girl screamed from the tower, alerting the supply group, who had all acted quickly scanning the fence in unison and spotting me.

I continued walking.

The supply group began pulling weapons up, aimed at me, and all three headed through the first safety gate to greet me, but only on the other side on the prison fence.

The others back up at the prison had been alerted too, a small crowd had gathered a safe distance away, the boy from the little farm had run down to stand behind the supply group.

There were three zombies between the gate and me. They had noticed me and began to head by direction. The darker girl dutifully stepped past the two men, and slid a sword through the fence, stabbing each one in the head, leaving my path clear.

"Hi there," the guy with the Stetson said.

I stepped around a wooden blockade and was in front of the little group.

"Where did you come from?" Stetson asked, concerned.

I then realized how I must have looked.

"I was traveling with a group, and- Well, now I'm not." There was so much more than this, but I was having a difficult time even looking at these people, let alone unloading my past on them.

"Theres none of them with you?"

"No," I answered. "They are all pretty far away by now."

I had glanced up to see Stetson giving me a pretty decent once-over. He must have decided I wasn't dangerous, because he lowered his gun, opened the gate a tiny bit and crunched across the ground until he was standing in front of me. He made a little motion to his two guards to stay close to him though. They moved in, weapons still ready.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked me.

"I'm not sure. More than Ive kept count of." I answered, still looking down at my blood covered clothes.

"How many people have you killed?" he asked.

I hesitated on this one. I didn't know what he wanted to hear.

"Shes trying to decide whether to lie to you or not." The male guard said gruffly.

_Fuck._

Keeping my eyes down, I decided not to lie. "Twelve." I answered.

Stetson paused, I saw him glance back towards his people.

Next question from him: "why?"

"One because I was asked to, seven for protection, and four because…" I had trailed off. I then inhaled and looked Stetson full in the face. "Because they deserved it."

Stetson frowned a little, cocked his head in way to say "alright then" and held out his hand to me. I held out my bloodstained one. "My name's Rick".

This had been a week ago. They had set me up with a little cell of my own, introduced me to a small group of people, walked me around on a tour, got me cleaned up. For the most part, they seemed to be keeping me separated. They were keeping me locked up, and Id been given a guard who would take me to the bathroom or brought me food. I guess they were trying to decide if I was sane or normal enough to be released among the prison dwellers. They had purely given me a female guard, makes sense and was thoughtful.

I liked Maggie. She was quiet, but she would give me smiles without showing her teeth when I made eye contact with her.

She brought me a tray of food, all cooked veggies today. Probably because she was bored, she sat down outside my cell and began picking through her own plate. I noticed her avoiding her carrots, setting them on a far side of the plate, so they wouldn't contaminate her potatoes any further.

She had been very nice to me when Id gotten my first shower. She had volunteered to hunt down some clothes and had helped me clean all the blood out of my long, normally blond, hair.

It was probably because we were pretty close in age, she must have felt a small connection between us.

Her boyfriend's name was Glennn. I hadn't seen him yet, but she'd mentioned him a few times.

I finished my plate before her, so I waited until she was done and turned around to look at me before I offered her my plate through the bars.

"You want my carrots?" She asked me, holding her carefully sectioned carrots up.

"Sure," I smiled, "Like I'm going to turn down food."

She smiled in agreement and we traded plates through the bars.

"I'm not normally picky, but something about the carrots here. I'm not sure what it is.

"I think Rick is gonna come in and check on you today. Hes probably going to make a decision about your trustworthiness with the council and maybe even give you a job." Maggie said encouragingly. "I think youre going to be ok, though. You seem pretty normal"

Rick had been coming by the past week a few times. He'd just sit on a chair outside the cell. Sometimes he'd talk just talk to me, ask me questions about where I've been, things about before the whole world went to shit. Sometimes he wouldn't. He would clean his gun and look at me. I didn't mind. He was pretty decent looking. I had noticed a wedding ring on his hand, but no mention of an actual wife.

He had told me how terrifying I had looked when I'd come to the fence. I'd seen my refection that day, I was aware of what I'd looked like. And I knew why I'd looked like that. But it had gotten a smile out of him, so when he brought it up and grinned, I couldn't help but grin back and laugh about the blood stains and chunks of flesh stuck to me that Rick didn't realize had been fairly fresh and had come from living humans.

Maggie left, but gave me a book on her way out to keep me company for a while.

I was a fast reader. I heard a door slamming, which made me flinch, and then a set of footsteps and a pair of crutches, around page 85.

Rick stopped in front of my cell, Herschel hobbling next to him. The old man gave me a very pleasant smile that I immediately returned. He was one of the few people I had already been introduced to.

I stood up and leaned against the bars.

Rick held up a key. " Your freedom comes with expectations from this group and serious consequences if you break our trust or fail to perform as requested. We will not tolerate misconduct, lying, thievery, or violence. Grey, do you accept these conditions?"

Rick had asked me my name one day when he was sitting in the chair. I had told him, but asked him to call me by my last name. He had looked a bit puzzled, but agreed. I was relieved. I never wanted to hear my first name again.

I nodded, staring at the lock on my cell, but looked up to Rick to say, "Yes."

He reached down and unlocked my cell. Herschel's smile got even bigger, "Welcome to our family!" Herschel seemed quite pleased.

"Well, Grey, I figured we could set you up with some target practice first. See what your aim is like and what sort of training youre going to need."

When he'd asked me how my aim was during a chair session, I'd been vague.

The field was pretty empty, a few people still wandering around after their lunch. Rick grabbed a duffel bag sitting on table.

I laughed, "You mean to tell me youre going to let me out of jail and just hand me a gun first thing?"

Rick laughed a little too. "Yes maam. Gotta know what I'm dealing with here."

Herschel's smile became more pronounced and he slowly hobbled off back to the prison, leaving Rick and me standing on the edge of the field.

The kid with the cowboy hat came into view from behind the guard tower. He quickly walked towards us.

" Targets are set up, dad." He called to Rick.

I started. _Dad?_ I didn't think Rick looked that old. That kid had to be like, 13? 14?

When the kid got close enough, he made eye contact with me and smiled a little goofily.

"Grey, this is my son Carl. Carl, this is our newest member, Grey." Rick said. Carl took off his hat and mumbled something that sounded like "ma'am".

"I'll be back here, dad. Let me know if you need more targets, or ammo, or a gun. Or anything." Carl had said all of this while walking backwards and keeping his gaze fixed on me.

Rick snickered a little and turned towards me, "Wow, he hasn't been that helpful in a long while. He thinks youre pretty."

I grinned embarrassedly while Rick led me out across the field.

Cans had been set up as targets, perched on various heights of wooden posts.

He pulled a revolver out of the duffel and let me load it. I was given free reign to shoot when ready. I only missed once out of the six shots. Rick seemed pleased, but I told him I'd never been great with handguns.

He gave me another six bullets. I watched him while I loaded the bullets. He was staring at the ground and looked as though he was thinking hard about something.

I tucked my head a little, to try to get his attention. He looked up suddenly, as though he'd made some sort of decision.

" Your grip is close, but not quite perfect." He made eye contact and then moved behind me, gauging my reaction.

A familiar panic tightened my chest as he pressed a little bit into my back. He must have felt my breathing quicken because he pulled away a fair amount. I turned my head to look at him, painfully aware of how terrified I must look, eyes all wide, heart beating twice as fast as necessary.

"Grey?" He asked, "are you ok? I don't have to touch you if youre uncomfortable with it. Really."

I tried to push down the anxiety I was feeling. Rick was ok. I knew that. I'd been around him even more than Maggie the past week.

He looked kind of upset and quite a bit worried.

I decided to make a move of faith and force myself to see that it really was ok. I nodded to Rick and then gently stepped back to place my back up against him again. He seemed to be even more cautious this time. He wrapped his arms around me to show me exactly where my elbows should be pointing to avoid recoil and where my hands should be on the gun.

The next round of shots went even better than the first.

"That's really great, Grey. Youre really good. We need another good shot for runs and protection. Did you have a weapon of choice with your other group?"

"Actually Rick, what do you have up there?" I asked motioning towards the guard tower.

What I hadn't told Rick in the chair session might become my best asset to the entire group.

Rick made another head tilt to me, indicating consent. "Alright then, lets go up there."

He followed me up the staircase.

Sitting, propped against the ledge, was a .308 sniper rifle. Now this is my weapon of choice.

He handed me a box of bullets. I pushed them into the cartridge and loaded the gun. I felt the familiar sliding motion of the bolt.

I ripped a bit of my shirt cuff off and tied my hair back in a long pony tail.

Then I pointed for him, the zombie I was aiming for. This thing was an impressive distance away. I nailed it, first shot, in the head.

"Holy shit, Grey." Rick muttered.

I pulled this off a few more times until…

"Jesus Christ, Grey, that had to be about 800 yards!" Rick exclaimed.

I smiled and set the gun back up against the wall. I followed him down the stairs this time. Rick seemed slightly stunned.

A small group of people had assembled against the fence, taking out the mob of zombies that had congregated during the noise of my practice.

I could feel tension lingering with Rick. He felt bad about freaking me out and was now acting sort of funny.

After shooting practice, he took me to see the farm they had been growing. They even had some animals. He was so proud of his prison. I thought it was really sweet. The place did seem well run and taken care of. And everyone had a place.

He let me pet a baby pig and then asked me to help him plant seeds. They had found a bunch of different vegetable seeds at a hardware store north of here. He even gave me gloves.

We worked in relative silence. I got dirt all over my boots and probably stained my dark jeans. But I was having a hard time caring.

Sweat was starting to bead up around the neckline of my shirt from the effort and I was starting to get pungent. I took a filthy glove off and wiped my forehead. It didn't help much, but then, without even thinking about it, I stuck my hand in the dirt to help keep a plant still that Rick was transferring.

The dirt under my fingernails. I ripped off my other glove and began to pick the dirt out. Hard. So hard that the underneath of my nails had started to bleed.

He noticed. He didn't even say anything. He took his gloves off and took my hand in his, as slowly as he could and looked at me questioningly. His green eyes full of disgust? Curiosity? He reached up, again very slowly, giving me time to reject the touch, and wiped something off my face, just next to my eyebrow.

That night I was introduced to more people. With Rick leading the introductions enthusiastically. He must have forgotten or ignored my strangeness earlier. Everyone seemed pretty happy to meet me. Kind of oddly happy. Like everyone had a good-natured secret they weren't letting me in on.

A large group of people had dinner outside, seated at tables or sitting up against the walls of the prison. It was nice to be in that sort of atmosphere. No tension, no worry. It was easy to sit back with my plate of beans and even half a piece of fruit for dessert and make friends with people. Easily talk to them.

Carl made a point to stop by twice to tell me how impressive my shooting had been. I guess he'd been watching. I took the compliments both times with a big smile.

When dinner was over and people began to head to bed, I offered to help clean up, but a nice older lady practically shooed me away.

One or two other newer people lived in my cell block, but I didn't see them. I had no idea how to get back to my "room". I stood there pathetically for a minute until Herschel caught me gazing around."Oh don't worry, you'll figure this place out soon enough, but let me find you Rick. My leg you know, I shouldn't be clacking around so much or I'd take you myself."

I thought this was strange, considering I'd watched this man blaze around on his crutches almost nonstop that day.

True to his word, Herschel hobbled off and a minute later, Rick appeared.

"Lost, Grey?" He asked, managing to sound not completely fed up with me after the whole day.

He wasn't wearing his hat, and his hair had fallen out of place, looking tussled, like he'd gotten out of bed purely to come see me to my room. It seemed to me like he was the ring leader of this whole operation, so I didn't understand why I warranted such a privileged tour guide this late at night.

I smiled, at his hair and at the situation. He motioned with his head for me to follow him. One complicated path later, we stood outside my cell. The other patrons of the cell block seemed to be MIA. It was creepy in the dark without anyone else there.

Rick must have known how I was feeling because he turned without a word and grabbed a flashlight from a little stash inside a broken fire hose holder.

He handed it to me and opened my cell door for me, I walked in, prepared to hand the light back, but to my surprise, he stepped in after me.

We both stood awkwardly for a few seconds.

"Grey," he started, "what happened in the field today was completely my fault. I'm sorry I just did that without asking you. You forget how to be properly appropriate nowadays."

"Its ok, Rick. It really is."

"I could just see how uncomfortable that made you. And I don't know you well and you don't know me and I just wanted to apologize. I can't imagine what everyone else in the world has gone through since this all happened, so I forget things" he said meaningfully.

For one fleeting second I wanted to pour my soul out to this man. Maybe just to get it off my chest. Maybe just to see what it would feel like to tell someone. Tell someone what happened. Maybe even to watch their response to my confessions. Watch their face change while I told them.

But I didn't.

I nodded to him. He stood for a few more seconds, then suddenly turned and left.

I remained where I was and watched him leave.

I didn't sleep well that night.

The very nice older lady from dinner last night came and fetched me in the morning.

She waited for me to get dressed and gave me a small piece of smoked meat for breakfast. I pulled my hair back up in it's high ponytail and tied it off as we exited the block.

She took me to the little water towers they had; explained to me where they got their water, how it was rationed. She asked if I could cook. If I knew how to tell when meat was done. If I knew anything about electrical or plumbing or carpentry. Unfortunately, I hadn't prepared well for the coming apocalypse I had known nothing about. I had studied biology. I had no clue how to do much with a vehicle either, other than clean it or change a tire.

She politely reminded me her name was Carol and kept smiling when I told her I hadn't a notion how to do anything useful around the prison. Nothing like a world full of zombies to make a bachelors degree bring down my self worth.

"I saw you shoot, don't worry, youre already a really great asset. And its not like we are going to kick you out or something just because you can't build a house." Carol assured me. "If Daryl were here, he'd be the one teaching you hand to hand combat. He's on a run though. Have you met him?"

I shook my head.

"He was there when they brought you in, you probably just don't remember him.

Well, it looks like the council's plan is to get you all combat ready. Youll be our back up on some of the runs we have planned."

I asked her where Rick was, I hadn't seen him yet that day.

"Oh hes around. I think hes with Herschel today. Don't worry, you'll see him at some point today, I'm very sure." She gave me a pleasant, knowing arm pat. "Hey, by the way. Be careful right now. I've heard some people are getting sick and I want to try and keep that contained. I know its hard to stay sanitary nowadays, but you know, give it a shot."

She excused me for the rest of the day.

I went back out to the animals first. I noticed the momma pig didn't look great. I held one of the piglets for a while, just gazing over the fence. While I set the wriggling, pink thing back in the pen, I hoped they weren't getting sick.

There isn't much to do in a secluded prison during a zombie apocalypse. I quickly discovered that after a few days of freedom. So, I threw myself into helping as much as I possibly could. I probably wasn't actually doing much good, I couldn't carry much weight or anything, but I tried.

Like Carol had said, even if Rick was busy the whole day, he'd find some time during the day to come seek me out. I didn't know what to think of this. It was really cute of him.

Id been assigned guard duty one day, early morning. I was told by Maggie's boyfriend Glenn to sit in the tower and watch for any suspicious behavior. Especially from some guy with an eye patch. What a weird thing to say. What was he going to do? Come up to the gate and scale the damn thing, or something? Confused as I was, Glenn gave me a darkly significant look while he said it. Alright, I'll have to take him at his word that there was some history there. Beware the eye patch, I had thought. Take the eye patch very seriously.

I sat in a fold out metal chair, feet on the rail, knees bent with the gun propped on them. I was staring through the scope, making "eye contact" with zombies.

"Bang, bang" I muttered to myself, pretending to shoot one stuck in between two trees.

I heard noise coming up the stairs of the tower. I turned, expectantly, in my chair. Rick emerged, I smiled. Id figured that's who it was. He didn't smile back.

He walked over and crouched next to me.

I took my legs off the rail and shifted to him.

"Whats wrong?" I asked, "you look so worried."

"Two people were murdered, Grey. Two. Someone murdered them. Someone in this prison murdered them." He said seriously.

_Oh shit._

"Where were you last night, Grey?" he asked.

"I was in my cell all night. I never left. This morning I got up and Glenn found me at breakfast. He asked me to come do guard duty." I said. This was turning pretty worrisome.

He turned his head to me. "Look, youre the new comer. And after the number you told me, this doesn't look good."

_Oh shit, he totally thinks its me. _

"My number? The number of people I've killed? No, Rick, you've got to understand. I've never just killed people I barely knew just for kicks. I never killed anyone without a pretty god damn good reason." I said as forcefully as I could. I didn't want him to think it was me. I didn't want to leave the prison. "Ive been up here all day. Ask anyone."

He looked up from his crouched position and into my eyes. "Grey, please tell me it wasn't you. Please. I don't want it to have been you."

I looked back at him slightly frantically, "It wasn't, Rick. I swear to you. I promise."

_Please don't make me leave._

He sighed. "Ok, but now I've got to figure out who it was."

He asked me to come see the crime scene with him. I knew he had been a cop, so I didn't know what services I could possibly provide that he could find useful.

The two people had been drug out of their cell block and set on fire. It was a gruesome scene. I guess the girl who died had a boyfriend. He was being brought to the scene by Carol.

Rick was looking around for any clues, when they came in the little back area. The guy looked between all of us questioningly and then back at the bodies. And then I guess he understood. And then he freaked out.

"This is murder!" He was screaming at anyone in the courtyard. Then he focused in on Rick. "Youre a cop, you figure out who did this and you bring them to me. Do you understand? To me!"

"Tyreese, I understand how you feel, I've been there, you've seen me there. We know how you feel. We've all lost someone." Rick was speaking low and urgently.

Tyreese started pacing, he was starting to look like a caged animal.

"I know how you feel," Rick repeated.

Then Tyreese slugged Rick.

I screamed. I was almost two inches shorter than Rick and weighed much less, but in that moment I didn't even care. I threw myself at Tyreese, not doing much other than surprising him, which Rick took full advantage of. He hit Tyreese hard, enough to make the guy fall down. Rick kicked him while on the ground and then starting beating Tyreese.

After a few really hard hits, the guy had had enough.

"Rick!" I yelled.

Carol was screaming too.

"Rick, stop, Jesus Christ!" I shouted. It wasnt helping. I grabbed Rick's arm and threw him off balance. I fell with him and crashed into the pavement.

Rick looked horrified.

Tyreese was on the ground, crying.

Carol was staring at us all, hands covering her mouth in a silent scream.

Rick's glazed eyes passed over me, on to his bloody hand. He stood, touched his hair in an unconscious gesture and left.

I wanted to follow him, but I figured Tyreese deserved the attention more than Rick.

I ended up leaving Tyreese in the very sympathetic and capable hands of Carol after we had brought him back to his cell. I could tell the poor guy was going to have some serious damage to his face. Insult to injury.

I headed off to find Rick. I couldn't blame him for finally breaking down. But, probably the wrong person to be taking it out on, and definitely at the worst moment.

I searched for thirty minutes before I found him. He was sitting against a wall, a blood trail caked down his face and a bandage he'd clearly done himself wrapped on his right hand. He didn't even look at me when I sat down in front of him.

I scooted up in between his knees and put my hand out to him, motioning that Id help him with his wrap.

I redid the whole thing, feeling him watching my face the entire time.

"I know I don't know you guys that well, but I can tell you're a good leader. I can tell how hard you've worked to keep everyone safe. You even took me in, when you didn't even know me. I can tell how much freaking work you've put into this prison to make it a home. But, you snapped. Theres no shame in that. It happens, trust me, I know. I do think you should apologize to that man. Hes having a much worse day than you are." I handed Rick his hand back.

I went back to the guard tower. When I got there, Maggie was there, hanging out with Glennn. I relieved them, purely because I wanted to be alone for a while and being that high up was nice therapy

I filled them in on what was going on.

They were both pretty concerned, they walked away talking about it together.

The zombie activity was high today. I sat with my legs dangling off the tower, worried about Rick. He seemed so strong, it was unsettling to watch him freak so badly. I knew I was capable of snapping like that, but its more difficult seeing someone else do it.

This dude with an eye path was most likely a fairly large factor though, to Rick's stress. Maggie had told me a few stories about this character the other night at dinner. He killed Michonne, the dread lock girl's best friend. She still went out and hunted him sometimes. Her trail mustve always come up cold though, because she never stayed out long. He had taken Glennn and Maggie, tortured both of them, hed had a meeting with Rick even, to try and work something out.

It made me wonder if the guy was nuts before the apocalypse, or if the apocalypse made him that way.

I guess the eye patch wasn't as funny as Id thought itd been. I could see how the guy could still be putting people on the edge. Hopefully the guy had died out there. Cold and alone, eye patch askew, his throat ripped out.

I made a mental note to pay attention to walkers with an eyepatch from now on.

Man, there was sure a ton of zombies against the fence right now. I decided to go make myself more useful and kill some of the stupid things. They were getting all pressed on the fence, caving it.

I reached the fence and started stabbing them methodically. And then I slipped on something. I fell on my tailbone, and felt a hand snatch out and grab my leg. One of the things on the fence had a grab of my ankle, tight. I kicked in, at its head, doing nothing but hitting the fence, I twisted around and grabbed the pike I'd been stabbing the zombies with, from where I'd dropped it. I stuck the one who had a hold on me in between the eyes. I stood, brushing gravel off my pants. Id cut up my hands from the fall pretty good. I rubbed them together, stinging still, and looked down to see what I'd slipped on. Half a dozen dead, chewed up rats were piled against the gates.

_Who in the fuck?_

Who would feed the damn walkers? That's just perfect though, because that has almost got to be whats causing the walker pile up.

Glennn was suddenly at my side. "Are you ok? I saw you fall." He had a piece of rebar in his hands and started helping with the pileup.

"Yeah I'm ok, but have you seen this?" I said, pointing to the rats.

He nodded, "Rick and everyone know. We don't know who is doing it though. It looks like its becoming a pretty serious problem." He said, surveying the walkers.

We had cleared up most of the fence before nightfall. With a little light left, I went to feed the animals. My tailbone was definitely bruised.

I hobbled back up across the prison yard into the courtyard area. Dinner was being prepared by a few volunteers. Tyreese, Carol and Rick were all absent. For curiosity's sake, I went to go sneak a peek at the crime scene. It looked exactly the same, but the two bodies had been covered with white sheets.

I went back out to eat something and brought my plate over next to Herschel.

"Grey!" He said, wiping off his mustache, "Howre you doing so far? You seem to be getting pretty comfortable with duties and even everyone else."

I was pretty thrilled someone had noticed. I had been trying extra hard to help out and I'd been really friendly with everyone, which was completely out of character for me.

"Thanks, Herschel, I like to think I'm doing well here, myself."

Herschel finished his last bite of potato and chewed thoughtfully. "You know Grey, youre doing a lot more good than I think you even realize. What you did today for Rick. I talked to him after you helped him with his wrap. Hes had a rough time for a long time. As a group, we've put a lot of stress on him and we owe him a great deal. He deserves some happiness."

I nodded, a little baffled.

Herschel stood up and grabbed his crutches. "Good night, Grey. And just, you know, be careful" He said significantly.

I sat there. Completely confused. Or- well, was I? Ok, I'd noticed it. Id noticed how Rick looked at me and I probably totally reciprocated it back. I hadn't been around a man I'd felt that comfortable with in a very long time. It felt nice.

And lets not pretend like I hadn't missed seeing him tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning a supply run that had been away since I was released from my waiting period in jail had come back. They came back so early, Carol and I were the only ones out in the yard to open the gate.

I'd been having nightmares that were the worst in the early hours of the morning. I'd wake up in horror, disoriented and unable to go back to sleep. Carol said she could never sleep in either because it was a habit from her past. Her husband used to get too angry with her if she didn't get up and make him breakfast each morning. She told me sometimes she still wakes up, worried that he will be there.

We pulled the chains to open the metal barrier.

The supply group consisted of a nice guy named Bob, a girl named Sasha, who Carol took aside to speak to immediately. Then a third guy. He was the guard that had caught me considering lying to Rick.

He seemed to know who I was though, because looking me up and down in a not-so-kindly way, he introduced himself as Daryl and called me by my last name, like I'd asked everyone do. He was weathered, but very attractive in a redneck kind of way. He had on a cut off leather vest with wings on the back and a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

He saw Carol was distracted and turned to ask me if anything had been going on since he'd been gone, when we heard an unmistakable gunshot from up in the prison.

Daryl took off towards the noise, the rest of us close behind him. I didn't have anything but a knife I had been given by Rick, so I pulled it out, but tried to stay out of the more prison-knowledgeable people's way. Rick came running past me through the cell blocks, motioning for Daryl to join him as he shouted to Maggie, asking what had happened.

"Walkers in here!" Maggie was screaming, "We need help, now!"

With adrenaline pumping, I squeezed in past the people screaming and pushing to get out of the block.

It was pandemonium. People were scurrying to get out while others found their way blocked, and were shoving into cells, frantically trying to get their doors shut before advancing walkers could get them. I paused for a moment. The screaming and echoes of the gunshots was enough to disorient anyone, but it messed me up a little bit. I didn't know where to start. Rick was running up the metal stairs to help the cornered people on the second level, more zombies were clawing at people through their own locked cells. A girl was pulling her arm back through her door when a rambling by walker grabbed on and sank its teeth straight into her hand. She screamed and I set into action.

I shoved a confused man out of my way, pushing him towards the exit and shoulder slammed into the walker, his teeth ripping out of the girl's hand. The walker side stumbled and headed towards me, fast. I'd forgotten how much faster the fresher ones moved. His skull would be harder to get through, too. Holding my knife as firm as I could, I darted at him and rammed the knife through his eye socket. He went down. The victim was sobbing over her mangled hand.

A few more zombies poured in from the back, surrounding me, forcing me up the staircase. One reached up through the stairs and snagged my leg. I fell hard on the stairs, the grime covered knife slipping out of my hand. Everyone was preoccupied in their own gruesome battles, who was going to notice me?

The zombie still had a firm grip on me and another one was starting to clamber up the stairs.

Shit. I kicked my free leg out and connected perfectly with the climbing zombie's face. I broke the glasses on his face.

I tried to wrench myself from the clinging zombie, but now the third was starting to help out, and that one's mouth was in range to get a decent chunk out of my calf.

I heard a thunk underneath me and felt the grip slacken on my ankle. Daryl nailed the third and then second zombies in the heads as I pulled my leg back through the stairs. It was done. The chaos had subsided. A few survivors stood in pure fright in the their cells, some nursing fresh bite wounds.

Goddamn I was going to have a wicked bruise on my shin. Daryl jumped over the stair rail and helped me up.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah, perfectly fine. What the hell happened in here, though?" I asked, sitting back down and rolling up my pant leg since it was being soaked in my blood.

Daryl watched me.

"That aint a bite, right?" He asked.

I shook my head, "If the fucking stairs is what does me in, I probably deserve it."

He looked as amused as someone could be considering the situation. "Come on, I don't wanna be round for this," He said, gesturing as Carol and Herschel came in and set to work consoling the bitten. He helped me up a second time. I looked for Rick as I was leaving, to ask him if I could do anything to help, but I didn't see him.

Early that afternoon, the gist of what had happened got around. A kid got some mad disease and died in the washroom. He'd woken back up and started a mini massacre, that lead the huge massacre I'd witnessed.

The sickness was worrying. In the old world, I'd been a germaphobe, an occupational hazard of my biology degree. But what were we going to do about it now? Maybe it was an isolated incident, but apparently the pigs were starting to keel over too. Definitely not a good sign.

I hadn't seen Rick yet, today. I thought about going and attempting to find him, but I figured he already had too much on his plate. I had nothing useful to contribute.

I was burying two of the dead pig bodies (the smell seemed to put the other pigs off food) when I saw Tyreese in the distance, heading purposefully towards a large wonky wooden cross in the middle of the prison yard. He set to work digging next to it.

Oh yeah, his girlfriend and the other guy hadn't gotten buried yet. I filled the second grave up and was heading up the yard to help the bruised Tyreese, when I saw Rick. Good, he was going to apologize. Rick really is a good guy. I can't believe there's any of those left in this shit world.

I watched the two of them for a while, making sure no punches were about to be thrown, but all looked well. Figuring I was being too creepy. I headed back up to the prison to take a much needed shower and rinse the dead pig off me.

I noticed a lot of people coughing on my trip through the cell blocks to the washroom. Which, of course, made me feel a tickle in my throat.

I showered, wistfully thinking of expensive conditioner and some dang lotion.

While walking back through the blocks, I couldn't help noticing just how many people were coughing. _Oh god, I think I felt spit from one of them hit me_. I passed the little patio area where the two bodies had been removed. Rick was in there. I considering going into sneak mode and passing by without bothering him, but before I could make a choice, he turned and saw me.

Although I probably looked stupid just standing there looking at him, he gave a me a pretty generous smile. I was especially surprised he had it in him, considering what hell was occurring to his group.

"I owe it to Tyreese to figure this out. Especially after what I did to him." Rick explained seriously, standing between the two blood stains on the ground.

I opened up the creaky metal gate and came to stand by him, taking care to not step in the stains. It seemed rude to stick my foot on one of them. "I would help you if I figured I'd do any good. I don't know anyone well enough here, and everyone I do barely know doesn't seem capable of a vicious murder."

Rick raised his eyebrows a little in agreement, "I didn't think I knew anyone capable either, but shows what I know."

"Obviously, they had to have been dead before they were brought out here. It's a lot of weight to be dragging, it'd have to have been one at a time. Whichever bed has the bigger bloodstain on it is the second one to have been brought out here. That's about the extent of use I can be," I said.

A pause. "How is that so obvious, Grey?" he asked me.

Dammit. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I don't want to give him more reason to suspect me.

_Just tread carefully here._

"You want them quiet while they traveled from their beds to here. You'd want to kill them one at time, without the other noticing, so neither of them would put up a fight. Therefore, they'd have to both have been asleep. Hence the blood stains in the beds. One would have oozed more than the other from sitting there, waiting for transport. Anyone would think of that." I tried to smile, but I think it came out a grimace.

Rick blinked. "I saw you help in the attack today. If it weren't for that, I'd be more suspicious of you. But thank you for what you did. You don't have a strong loyalty to us yet, and I get that, so thank you for protecting those people."

He started towards the door, following the blood streaks back into the cell block. He reached out and touched my arm as he passed. "I'll find you at dinner, ok?"

I decided to go look for Carol. I hadn't been in her cell block yet, so I walked inside cautiously. I strode through, checking each cell for her, but she wasn't there.

Maggie's sister Beth was though, with that baby she always had. She didn't look old enough to have a baby, but I guess I am in the South. That's probably perfectly normal.

"Hey!" She called to me when I passed. I reluctantly went back. Nothing against her, but I hate kids. Especially the smaller they are, they less I like them.

"You're Grey, right? We haven't really met. I'm Beth and this," She waved the baby's pink clothed arm at me, "is Judith."

I smiled indulgently at both of them. "She's cute," I lied, "is she yours?"

She seemed pleased by my compliment to the baby and looked down to smile at it, "No, its actually Rick's. She's a lucky little thing. Her life has been rough, but the prison and everyone here have given her a better chance than probably any other baby. Wanna hold her?"

I think she held the baby out to me, but I hadn't heard anything properly after the bomb she just dropped on me.

"I, uh, gotta go," I blurted out and marched stiff legged out of the cell block.

_Rick had a baby? A newborn baby? What the -_

"Grey!" Herschel had caught me midstride. I regretfully stopped my purposeful stalk to the guard tower. Then I rounded on the old man a bit more ferociously than I meant to. I could have asked Herschel about the baby, but I think I was too ticked off and embarrassed to bring up this relationship I had with Rick. I was trying to pretend like it wasn't happening and I didn't want to watch Herschel's smug expression change when I acknowledged our rapport.

I cut him off from whatever he was about to say: "Hey, aren't you a vet? What happened to the pigs? Is there something serious going around, or was that one kid a freak accident? And have you noticing how many people are coughing? It's like everyone. The zombies on the gate too, they're piling up. I know we've been reinforcing it, but come on. How long is that really going to hold?" I said this all in a rush and my words were punctuated nicely by an older lady hacking up a lung in the distance.

Herschel managed to look calm and then carefully considered my words. "I'm not going to lie to you. It's something bad. I don't know if we gave it to the pigs or the other way around. We are going to have to start quarantining people soon. The walkers? We've tried leading them away. We are going to have to figure out some more effective methods than stabbing them through the fence. Feel free to start brainstorming."

He didn't say this in a mean way though, and I relaxed just a centimeter.

"The quarantine is a good idea," I said, thinking at least some action is being taken.

"Thank you, Grey. It will be hard for people, but it's got to happen. You should go find Daryl. The council decided we want you to prepped for runs, so you need to find him and try out some hand to hand combat. Go easy on Daryl, he takes some time to warm up to people," Herschel winked at me and hobbled off.


	3. Chapter2 Part2

Although the baby was still prominent in my mind, it would be kind of fun to go hit someone.

After some asking around for Daryl's whereabouts, I found him smoking a cigarette and standing haughtily by the group's vehicles. He gave me an acknowledging head nod.

"What's up?" he graciously offered me a drag off his cigarette. I took it more out of politeness due to how huge the gesture was rather than desire for a puff.

"You wanna fight?" I asked playfully, putting my fist up and taking a few fake jabs at the air.

He snickered, "that's not actually your form, right? 'Cus that's garbage, Dude."

I let him finish his cigarette as we headed back to the cell blocks together. We both stayed silent for the most part until he led me into an unused cell block. He told me to help him take the mattresses off the beds and arrange them on the floor as mats.

He took off his leather vest and boots, and set his crossbow down lovingly in a chair, like it was a little spectator. He asked me to take off my boots and any jewelry. I didn't have any of the second thing, I'd lost my only ring I owned a long time ago, but I obliged with my boots. He stood facing me on the mats in a sleeveless t-shirt and jeans.

He informed me he only really knew how to bar scrap as he called it, he just wanted to see if I'd be able to handle myself if I ended up in trouble during a run and no one could assist me.

I rolled the sleeves of my dirty, long sleeve shirt up and swung my ponytail out of my way.

Then he told me to attack him. I came straight at him and he simply picked me up and threw me. I landed with a heavy thump on a mattress.

He reached down for me and helped me up, straight faced.

"You realize you have like, sixty pounds on me, right?" Even as I said it, I knew it shouldn't be a problem. Especially for me. I knew perfectly well what I was capable of, but maybe the circumstances had to be different in order for me to access that particular brand of brutality.

"Come on, Grey," Daryl said, angling himself towards me again. I tried attacking him a couple more times, but he fended me off easily. I attempted from the side and he put his arm between my legs and lifted me all the way onto his shoulder, easy as doing a bicep curl, then threw me backwards.

He shook his shaggy hair out of his face. "Come on, girl, I feel like you're holdin' back on me."

I was getting irritated. This last round he'd smacked my raw shin scrape and I could feel it bleeding again. I was hurting and getting sore. We'd played around long enough and I had some pent up frustration I felt like taking out on someone. I decided to prove a point to the damn Redneck this time. With us in position one more time, I threw my left arm in the air as a distraction and then jabbed Daryl straight in the nose with my right hand. I hit him hard enough to not do any damage, but enough to startle him.

He let out a growling sound and instinctively tackled me onto the mattress. He fell hard on top of me and pinned my right arm above my head, but I had reacted on instinct too: My left hand was in a claw around his jugular, my fingers digging in.

Oddly enough, I felt an emotion somewhere; an emotion that had nothing to do with the adrenaline coursing through me.

Daryl actually smiled. "See? You gotta little bite in you."

He released me and helped me up for the umpteenth time that day. He dabbed at the trickle of blood coming out of his nose.

We redressed and left the mattresses on the ground. He must not think I'm completely hopeless then. I'd gotten my point across.

We got out to the yard during dinner. Everyone was eating. Eating and coughing. Rick spotted us from a low wall he was leaning against, away from the crowd. I'd forgotten about the baby the whole time I'd been with Daryl. Remembering it made me feel slightly sick as we headed towards Rick.

"How'd she do?" Rick asked Daryl, looking between the two of us.

Daryl snorted and answered while dabbing at his nose again, "Ah man, she punched me in the nose."

Rick smirked at me amusedly.

"Oh yeah, ha ha," said Daryl, grudgingly, "you let her sock you next time, Chief."

I took up leaning against the wall as Daryl stalked away. I was starting to really feel my aches from being thrown around for the good part of an hour.

Still smirking Rick turned to me, "You punched him in the nose?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning a bit too, "He was starting to tick me off, so I smacked him."

"That's good. The man needs to get put in his place every so often."

Rick was in a good mood the whole night. I have no clue how he was doing it. A huge group sat in a circle around a fire and swapped stories after dinner. Stories about what we missed most, secrets from our pasts that didn't matter anymore. We were all laughing and when it got to the point that one woman admitted she missed her sex toy the most, I snorted, loudly, which led to even more laughter and Rick tormenting me about it. The mood was infectious and soon we were all getting rowdy. Not worried for once about the stupid walkers, or the illness, or the fact that near a dozen and a half people died earlier that day. Moving up and on. What other way can you do it?

A guy brought out a guitar and played a few popular songs I'd practically forgotten about. I slow danced with Rick through one of them, feeling Herschel's self-satisfied eyes on me the whole time. I thought he might burst from smugness.

The fire crackled with merriness and a few pieces of fruit were spread around to everyone for dessert. Some of the older kids were playing some game with their arms that apparently kept getting messed up, because they'd laugh and start all over. Glenn was telling Maggie a raucous story, wild hand gestures included. The only dampener on the fun was the persistent coughing around the yard.

Daryl was nowhere to be found; I looked for him. He doesn't seem like the socializing type, he must've chosen to do guard duty tonight.

We'd all stayed up late and I was surprised to find myself put out when Rick dropped me off at my cell and started to walk away. We'd been flirting and having fun and I was sad to have to let that go. Knowing me like I do though, I usually don't have those sort of feelings. I never thought I'd have them again.

Running through a brisk pep talk in my head, I let the mood from the night bolster me up. I slipped out of my cell and ran up behind him. I grabbed his arm and turned him around to find him smiling at me in a relaxed way. I leaned in and pressed my lips in the hollow of his jawbone. I backed up to find his smile gone, and him looking at me with a mixture of surprise and intensity.

He reached up and placed his hand on the side of my neck and pulled me into him, his lips pressing into mine. Aside from the beard, his kiss was soft. Now that I felt him kissing me, I think he had been looking at me with passion. The way he was touching me said everything. It suited him well.

He smelled like smoke from the fire and a little bit of sweat. I slid my tongue forward gently and touched his bottom lip, feeling his entire body completely closing the gap between us. I was dimly aware that we were in the middle of the cell block, there were people all around us.

My hands were on his back, keeping him against me. His hand snaked up into my hair, his other arm wrapped around my waist. And that was when the absolute sheer blinding panic hit. I froze, my eyes snapped open. It took everything I had to keep from trying to claw myself away from him. But, luckily, he noticed immediately.

Completely breaking the kiss, he pulled his arms out and away from me. He looked mortified.

"Grey, I'm so sorry," He whispered in a humiliated way.

I couldn't think of what to say to explain myself, so I just stared at him, like a scared deer, my heart rate beating loudly in my throat.

"Rick… it's not you."

That was supposed to be comforting, but it was a weak justification to what just happened. Just like out in the fields when we had my first shooting practice together.

He backed up a bit, watching me warily, like he thought I might snap and breathe fire at him. Like I was crazy. Well, ok, I guess he's kind of right, there.

He turned and left. His footsteps echoing in the block with a certain amount of finality.

Uncomfortably aware of the other resident's eyes on me, I rigidly walked back to my cell.

Laying down into bed, I felt tears welling out of pure frustration. I didn't think this would happen again. Nothing had gone wrong in my very physical training session with Daryl.

This wasn't my fault, and it was getting in the way of making some positive movements in my life. It seemed trivial to be so upset, taking into consideration the current state of the world, but this little prison was my world now. And I wasn't doing as well in it as I would have liked to have been.

The next day people were being rounded up for quarantine. Were you coughing? Have a fever? Go live in that block over there, thanks. I couldn't help but notice Rick seemed to be avoiding me. Perfect.

The injustice of the situation surged inside of me. None of this is my fault! I wanted to scream at him. If I told you what was wrong with me, it would just stamp and seal in your brain that I truly am a complete and utter psycho and I'd rather avoid that.

I watched him taking his kid into the administrative area and I aimed a kick at a nearby water cooler to vent some feelings.

"You tell that water, Grey," said Daryl snidely while passing by.

I glared at him and actually took a minute to take a breath and calm myself down.


	4. Chapter 3

The next few days, the sickness was starting to look deadly serious. People were starting to die in quarantine; meaning zombie disposal was becoming necessary. It was getting dangerous in the cell block. Everyone I knew well had kept from getting sick, except for Glenn. Maggie was really cut up about it.

Daryl came up the stairs to the guard tower early morning to ask if I wanted to go on a run to a veterinary school with a group he was putting together. They were going to scavenge it for supplies; that people would have passed over it. It was hopeful there would be antibiotics there to cure this illness. His team seemed fairly solid, though, especially with him and Michonne. I didn't really think they needed me.

I seriously considered going, but in the end I decided to stay back and help out at the prison. With all going on, we were currently drastically under-manned.

I watched Daryl leave the guard tower and go directly to the packed and waiting black Charger. He turned around to glance up at me. I thought about giving him a sarcastic little wave, to show him I knew he was looking at me, but I thought maybe he wouldn't get that I was trying to be funny. So I sat there watching him, the whole way until the Charger left the gates and disappeared into the trees. I held the scope up to my eye, wondering if I could catch a glimpse of the car through the trees, but of course I couldn't.

I skimmed through the tree line, properly doing guard duty. Then, without me being completely sure where in the trees it happened, I saw a bright flash. Alarming to me because it was the same sort of flash like a scope makes in the sunlight. My heart beating rapidly, I whipped my scope back to approximately where the flash had been, but I saw nothing. I frantically searched around the same area, looking for any movement or anything out of the ordinary. In my concern, I almost stood up, but that's a terrible idea, I don't want to give anyone an easier target. I stayed perfectly still, my eye trained on the same forested area for near 20 minutes.

I could go out and actually investigate, but it's not like the person would sit and wait for me to get there. Not to mention the piles of zombies out there smushing against the fence and milling around aimlessly. But, what if it was actually someone? What if it was the goddamn eyepatch guy?

_Fuck it._

I was feeling pretty reckless anyway. Rick had spoken to me in only the briefest of ways the past few days and I was feeling anxious about the sickness and suddenly something else I couldn't really put my finger on. Oh, and not to mention I'm an undeniable psycho. I needed to go out and check the forest for my own piece of mind.

I stood up in one swift movement, my decision propelling me out of the chair. I quickly skimmed down the stairs and strode across the yard, holding the .308 close under my arm, and went right out the cut open piece of chain link. I wound the bungee cord back up, closing the fence and darted around a few slow moving zombies. There seemed to be even more of them than it had looked from the tower, now that I was actually in their midst.

I was going to try to avoid killing them, though, that seems to make them gang up on you like a creepy herd of cattle.

I sped across the bridge over the river and pushed foliage out of my way until I came to the general area that needed investigation. I wasn't a tracker or anything, but the vicinity looked fairly undisturbed. And, of course, there was no one posted up waiting for me. I gave the brush around the perimeter another once over and decided to head back once I was pretty sure nothing was too suspicious.

I ducked under a hefty tree branch and found an unsettling sight awaiting me. An entire fifteen strong hoard was clawing at the exact part of the fence I needed to get into.

The prison gate was about a quarter mile away from me. The zombies were thinned out there, unfortunately though, I'd have to pray to god someone saw me once I got there, as there was no way for me to open the gate myself. Taking in my choices, I weighed more favorably to the main gate.

Sneaking past the clumped up walkers, I trekked my way to the gate, weaving carefully through the zombies, hoping they wouldn't acknowledge my presence.

Getting to the gate was going to be easy; figuring out how to get inside would be the complicated bit. Sure enough, I made it there, no issue.

A couple of walkers wandered around me at a safe distance while I scanned the prison yard. Too bad I was supposed to be the one on guard duty. I totally would have noticed someone standing out here.

I saw Rick up near the prison; he seemed to be looking towards the guard tower. That was close enough for me to assume I'd be in his line of vision. I leaned my gun against the metal barrier of the gate. Then, shooting a furtive look behind me to the walkers, I raised my arms and waved them as slowly as I could with it still being a clear signal. Seems like no recognition from Rick.

_God dammit, Rick. Look over here._ I was worried about the walkers taking an interest. If they did, they'd start piling up on me. Glancing behind me again, I tried one more time.

Ok, either he didn't see me, or he's so sick of me, he's decided it would be best for everyone if I just went ahead and got myself eaten. I'd like to think that wasn't the case, so I raised my arms to try my pathetic signal again, when I heard a snarl from behind me.

Shit. Well, I mean, at least my signal worked in some capacity. Lookin' on the bright side.

I pulled my heavy knife from my belt and turned backwards with my arm out, blade turned down, and slammed the knife straight into the advancing zombie's skull. And then the few around me started moving in. So much for flying under the radar. Two came at me. I kicked the first one in the chest, sending it to the ground. I sent the knife plunging into the temple of the other one, ripping it back out easily, and then straight into the first one's face.

Kneeling in the dirt, I looked around, I noticed a lot of them were headed towards me. I mean, a lot. They were moving down the fence at me, slowly, others appearing silently from the forest.

Starting to get a little panicky, I tried to pull the knife out the last one's face, but it was slippery with blood. It slid straight out of my fingers. I was still on the ground, trying to yank the knife out, but my fingers couldn't get purchase. I thought about pulling my shirt off and using it to grab the knife, but I didn't have time. I needed to back up.

_Ok, Grey, try to stay calm. _

But I was having a difficult time convincing myself.

I suddenly had a stroke of rare genius. Turning away from my deadly audience, back to them, I pulled the .308 in front of me and started waving it around, seeing the reflection of the scope hitting the steel plate of the gate a few times, flashing around desperately, I knew it had to be working. But I couldn't do it for long. Abandoning the attempt and hoping with every fiber of my being that Rick had seen it, I took the gun and crushed the butt of it into the closest skull. Unfortunately, with about ten of them coming at me, I was getting pushed into the huge plate and it was quickly causing me to feel like a cornered animal.

I really wanted to start shooting, but then I would attract every single one of them in a five mile radius, and I felt certain they'd stack up against the fence whether I was alive or dead and push through the fence…at least I'd know Rick would hear it though. I flipped the gun around in my hands and grabbed it by the barrel. Swinging it like a baseball bat, I got enough upwards force to actually lift one off its feet when I hit it underneath its chin. I swung at another one, its brain mush exploding on to the others. They didn't even notice. One got knocked over by the exploded head zombie. It fell directly in front of me, hands on the ground.

_Oh, too perfect._

Raising the gun over my head like an axe, I brought the butt of it down, cleaving the fallen walker's head into a canyon shape, bits of skull and mush visible.

Taking another baseball stance, I prepared for the next closest approacher.

"Grey!" I heard Rick yell.

Then I heard the sound of the gate moving open, I was midswing at another zombie when I felt a hand grab my arm and forcefully drag me inside the gate.

Rick rushed to shut it and then took my shoulders in his hands like he going to shake me.

"Jesus, are you ok?" He asked, looking me up and down concernedly. "Why didn't you just fucking shoot them? And what the fuck were you doing out there without telling anyone anyway?"

I fought down a mad desire to smile and lost; a grin spread across my face. "Did you see that?" I asked him, thrilled, "That was fucking awesome. Holy shit."

I fidgeted happily in his grip, the adrenaline still pumping through me at a wild pace. I felt ready to take on the whole world. I wriggled around to throw a quick look back outside the fence. I would have at least been able to take down five more before I'd gotten swarmed. Those few I could have reached were snarling at us and growling menacingly, tormenting me.

He stared at me like he'd never quite seen anything like me before.

"Grey, why didn't you shoot? What the hell did you think you were doing out there? Grey! Listen to me! What in the hell is wrong with you?!" He got progressively louder, until he practically bellowed the last question.

His grasp on me was so tight it was getting painful. He was looking at me desperately, like he was trying to understand me, understand anything about me.

With deadly seriousness, I looked him in the eyes and in answer to his last question replied simply, "A lot."

Rick searched my eyes with a pleading look. I gave him a hard one back.

I wasn't even sure why his question had upset me so much. Maybe because I'd been trying to hide it from everyone. He was never supposed to notice. No one was ever supposed to notice anything. It was never supposed to even be a problem. It was a hell of a lot to ask of myself, but I thought perhaps I could keep everything down. But I still dreamt about it each night. I could still feel it every day. I was going to have to tell him. Not now, but soon. He'd need to understand, whether it meant he'd get me away from his people or not, I owed it to him.

He'd let go of my arms in a defeated way; I could see him giving up on me again. He took a step backwards, but I took one towards him and in the middle of prison yard, with undead spectators, I set my gun on the ground and I gave him our second kiss.

It was even better than last time. I don't know if it was the adrenaline I had coursing through me from my dangerous mission, or what. He didn't put his arms around me this time, but instead opted for one hand on my waist and the other on my arm; I had stood on my toes a little and wrapped mine around his neck.

He stepped back suddenly from me, grabbed my hand, and started to lead me towards the guard tower, I broke free, stooped and snagged the gun out of the gravel quickly and took his outstretched hand. Just before we went through the door to the stairs, I saw someone watching us from up by the prison.

Once up the stairs and in the booth, Rick pushed me aggressively against the wall. We kissed insistently, intertwined with each other until my face started hurting from his facial hair. The panic in me was there, lurking underneath the surface, but it didn't break through.

He grabbed me all over, getting so far to the point of beginning to take off my shirt. He pushed it up, exposing the bottom of my bra, his rough hands slid from my V muscles to the small of my back.

I was craving feeling his skin on mine. A little moan escaped me and I wrapped my leg around his hips, forcing my pelvis against his, trying to encourage him to continue. I actually wanted this. Bad. I snuck a hand up his button-up shirt to feel his lean, muscular body against me. His skin was just a bit damp from sweat, and god, I wanted to taste him. Starting at the sensitive skin just above the collar of his shirt, I licked him, slowly, ending behind his ear. He pulled me into him even closer, rubbing against me.

But then, in one of the most disappointing moments of my life, he let go of me. Closing his eyes and making one of the loudest sighing noises I've ever heard come out of a person, he held up his hands in a not unkind gesture of surrender. His face was set, as though he'd just made an extremely difficult choice.

"I don't know what you do Grey, but there's something about you." Rick said, raising his hands up to slick back his hair in a bewildered way.

I tried to take that as a compliment, but yeah, I already knew that. It wasn't a positive quality about me as it seemed (until now) to only bring negative attention on me.

But I smiled at him, in what I hoped wouldn't be perceived in a cocky way and tried to straighten out my clothes.

"I actually came to find you because I need your help. I had to made a difficult decision and I want you to come with me while I execute this decision," Rick said, looking determinedly at a spot on the floor as though not to sucked in by me again.

"That's way better than you avoiding me, innit? I can definitely help you out." I was attempting to be friendly with him even though I wanted to rip his clothes off.

"Ok… Great," he seemed so bewildered. It was cute.

"But," he said, taking a step towards me and pointing accusingly, "I do want to know why I had to grab your ass from outside the fence and why in the hell you were smilin' like an idiot when I found you."

I nodded at him unabashedly. He looked satisfied.

"Alright, come on," he said, motioning to the stairwell, "I didn't stop what was happening for no good reason."

He grinned at me with a slight air of embarrassment.


	5. Chapter3 Part2

On the way back to the prison I explained myself pretty thoroughly to Rick. He didn't say anything through my story, just listened to me. He seemed concerned about the possible scope sighting and didn't relax when I told him I didn't actually find anything. I then skimmed over the bit about how I started to really enjoy myself while killing the walkers, because, well, that's not socially acceptable. I just told him I was proud of myself for not shooting and drawing them to the prison; and that was my excuse; that's why I was all amped up after he brought me back inside. Still he didn't say anything so I don't even think he bought it, but at least he didn't press further.

He asked me to pack up the SUV for a run and said he was going to get Carol to join us. It took a while for him to come back. I started chewing on my fingernails, remembered that we had a rampant disease floating about, and immediately yanked my hand out my mouth.

I saw Maggie heading to the guard tower to pick up my shift. I waved to her; she waved back, if not half-heartedly. She was worried about Glenn. I opened the door to the sea foam colored Hyundai and plopped myself down in the passenger seat, wondered briefly if it would be rude to take shot gun away from Carol, but then immediately forgot because I had realized I'd started chewing on my nails again.

I was pawing through a CD case I had found in the glove compartment when Rick opened the driver's side door and Carol slid in the backseat and touched my shoulder in a kind greeting. He started the car and I waved a CD at him enthusiastically, complete with a pleading smile. He looked at me in a pretend exasperated way, then snagged the disc from my hand and popped it into the player.

"Well aren't you guys just completely adorable?" Carol smirked from the back, looking just as smug as Herschel always did.

I grinned a little embarrassedly, glancing at Rick. He smiled in a sad sort of way, like there was something serious on his mind.

Maggie and Carl waved to us from the sides of the gate as we headed out down the forest-lined road leading away from the prison. I'd never been down this road, as I had taken the road seriously less traveled by on my route here. I had idly wondered which direction we would be heading on this trip, but the chances of finding _them_ seemed unlikely. In any case, I'd be much better armed this time and I'd even have a little back up. I felt completely sure Rick would step in and protect me if it came down to the worst.

I shouldn't be concerned though. The chances were so slim.

"Oh don't you two worry," Carol said pleasantly, turning to look out the window, "I'll just go ahead and keep it to myself for as long as you guys need. You know, we don't want everyone thinking anyone is actually happy nowadays, huh?" She grabbed my shoulder again in a joking way.

I wriggled around in my seat and threw a comical "you better!" look at Carol.

Turning back around to face front, smiling broadly as Carol laughed, I caught Rick's expression again. Why did he look so bummed? After a few minutes of persistent silence, (aside from the music that I was bobbing my head to joyfully) I decided to voice aloud one of my questions. "What're we out looking for today?"

Rick answered while focused on the road, "I figured we could come out here and look for any medical supplies that could help those people hang on long enough 'til the actual medicine gets back."

He was sure putting a lot of stock into the possibly nonexistent medicine. Realistically, the place could have already been searched. All those people at the prison could easily die. At least he is optimistic, I guess.

About half an hour later, we reached a quaint little town that, aside from the state of the lawns and the filthy cars, looked almost as it should have back in the old days. They were all cute little two story things, a bunch of tasteful colors on them. A green one; I'd always loved green houses. It's what I'd been hoping to end up with after I got my dream job. Glancing back to the small arsenal of guns we had in the car with us, I remembered, yet again, that it would never happen in my lifetime.

We parked behind a dusty old station wagon and got out of the car, Carol and I each grabbing a handgun apiece. Rick had his revolver. Carol tossed each of us duffel bag to carry supplies. Mine was bright orange, tinged with a bit of old blood. Gross.

As I took the bag gingerly by the handles, Rick shot a look towards Carol, (who was preoccupied on the other side of the car) then gently pushed me into the car and whispered, "Look, I hate to do this to you, but I gotta talk to Carol alone for a while. We are going to head into these houses, you try looking through these," He gestured, "I wouldn't be making you go alone if I didn't know you could handle yourself. I will need you after this trip is over. That's why I brought you and you'll understand it all when we go back. We will meet back here in two hours. Two hours," He repeated.

I shrugged at him and held up my wrist indicating my watch-less state. Rick unclasped his and pulled it off his wrist, handing it to me, "Please be careful, ok? Don't do anything reckless. Do you promise?"

Carol had come around to our side of the car, hoisting her black pack onto her shoulder. I nodded to Rick to show that I promised. I knew the unspoken part was really "don't go all crazy", but I appreciated him referring to it as "reckless".

He kissed me on the lips solemnly while Carol smiled and pointedly looked away.

I pointed at the two of them as Rick turned to go with Carol, "Y'all be careful too, now, you hear?" I said in my best tacky southern accent.

Carol rolled her eyes good naturedly, but Rick just looked grave.

Fine, I thought, don't make fun of his accent. Geez, mental note taken.

It looked like I was headed into my green house first. Holy southern living; it was like walking into a gaudy farmhouse explosion. Ceramic chickens lined surfaces and little paintings with cheesy sayings were featured around the house. The picture frames on tables were outdated and there seemed to be seasonal placemats set around the table. Twenty bucks says there a sign saying "kiss the cook" or something similar in the kitchen.

I held perfectly still for a minute, listening intently for noises upstairs. Seemed to be nothing. So, I picked up a particularly foul rooster statue and smashed it on the floor. Shattered pieces skittered across the hardwood. The noise was definitely loud enough. Now I wait.

Sure enough, a single walker came shambling into the living room from the kitchen, still wearing a flowery, if not filthy, apron. Stuffing my gun in my jeans, I snagged the metal poker from next to the fireplace and swung it at her head. Her brains became more decoration.

Just for fun, and because there wasn't any reason not to, I went on a mini rampage on the innocent chickens and even smashed the fine china cabinet in the dining room.

Feeling fairly satisfied, I moved into the kitchen, pawing through the cabinets. There wasn't much, one or two cans. I headed upstairs and banged on the walls with the poker and waited patiently. I heard thumping coming from a shut white door. The front of it had a sloppily written message in black marker: "Please let Tyler live".

Either the kid was still alive and locked in there, or I had some bad news for the parents. I decided to let Tyler be and headed into the bathrooms to search the medicine cabinets, then to the parents bedroom to look for anything useful. I found a few spare batteries and condoms. I checked the date on the condoms just to be sure. Maybe Glenn and Maggie would need them; that is if Glenn lived.

Thank god, I had already gotten one of those ten year birth controls stuck up there pre-apocalypse, but knowing my usual luck, I'd die in the zombie apocalypse from freaking syphilis or something. Whether divine intervention or a sheer miracle, I'd managed to stay unscathed thus far.

I bounced down the stairs and headed into my next house, fire poker in hand, scanning the street for Rick and Carol. I wondered what he so somberly wanted to talk to her about. Nothing good if I wasn't invited in on the conversation.

I thought seriously for a minute, and then my girl-brain went into overdrive. The only conclusion I could come up began to form. Carol was part of the council, she was one of Rick's most trusted advisors. What if he was telling her what a psycho I am? And now they're trying to decide what to do with me. What if they try to take off in the car and abandon me while I search the houses, totally unaware while they speed off. Abandon me all the way out here with no supplies and a goddamn fire poker and a handgun.

I stayed planted on the porch of my next house, refusing to budge out of fear, determined to catch them in the act of running to the Hyundai and taking off.

I glanced at my watch. OK I'd be standing here for like, ten minutes. I was probably just imagining things. It would be awkward to show up at the car with only four things in my bag and have to admit, "No, I ended up rooted on the street because I was positive you were deserting my ass in the middle of this cul de sac." Anyways, be realistic girl-brain: Rick wouldn't leave me. We had business to attend to together. We'd gotten close enough already, there's no way he'd pass up that opportunity.

On a one-eighty, I turned on my heel and creaked open the screen door to the next house. Wallpaper with flowers greeted me from every wall. This place was a disaster. It looked as though part of it had caught on fire, part had been turned over, and everything else broken.

I whacked the poker against the ceiling and heard, surprisingly, complete silence in response. The catastrophe inside had made me expect a zombie fight.

I jumped an accidental couch barricade into the kitchen and began my search. _Holy crap, chocolate_. That was so coming home with me. Tearing open the wrapper, I snapped off a chalky piece and popped it into my mouth. Even though it was slightly stale, I enjoyed the hell out of it.

After the chocolate discovery, I was a tad more thorough through the kitchen.

Upstairs I found a few pills that I'd never heard of, so I took them, but one that I had heard of: Viagra. I snickered to myself, but decided to not bring those puppies along with me. Hopefully Glenn didn't need those…

Checking my watch, I decided I had enough time to go through one more house.

The third had dried out flowers in dirty vases on every single table. And, oh my god, porcelain anthropomorphic pigs in various costumes set around the flowers. I actually laughed out loud. Did the same person decorate all these houses?

I grabbed a vase off the nearest coffee table and chucked it at a wall. The noise didnt bring anyone out. I was getting disappointed in the lack of zombie targets.

After the kitchen, I went upstairs. I found a decent size fish tank in the master bedroom. Opening up the creaky black cabinet under the tank, I actually found some fish penicillin and amoxicillin. I think that still counts as antibiotics even if the container has a fish on them.

The bathroom cabinets had more painkillers crammed into them than I'd ever seen in my life. I took a minute to absorb the sheer amount of them, then starting scooping them out with my arm into my bag. Vicki Rodgers from the Community Hospital of Macon must be seriously missing these if she's alive.

Checking Rick's watch again, I was about out of time. I'd managed a decent haul; though not as much food as I was hoping for.

I flounced out through the house, my combat boots lightly hitting each stair, dust rising out of the carpet.

I opened the door and found an unexpected scene greeting me down the street. It looked as though the two of them had been by the car for a few minutes already. Carol was taking an old canvas shopping bag out of Rick's hands.

Carol seemed to be crying quietly. _Oh no_. I approached carefully, completely confused. Rick was handing her another bag from out of the back of our car.

He looked so upset. She had a slightly desperate face on, gazing at Rick unbelievingly. Looking between the two of them, I suddenly understood. The real reason we came out here. He was making her leave. They weren't abandoning me; we were abandoning her.

"Grey," she said quietly, moving to me so he wouldn't hear, "Please take care of Rick. We were all so happy when you showed up, the whole group wished he someone. He talked about you almost non-stop after he visited you in your cell that first day. He's had a hard life since this started and I owe him my life many times over, he really deserved someone like you." Carol said, wiping away a tear. And then she hugged me, in a genuinely motherly way. I hadn't been hugged like that in ages. I hadn't felt like I had a family in a long time. Feeling the warmth and caring in her, I put my arms around her too, feeling a weird sense of loss. I felt my throat get tight and hot tears well up in my eyes.

She released me when Rick came over. She nodded at me like she was trying to tell me silently that it was all okay. I felt a tear roll down my face. Carol had been there for me, she helped make me feel at home. I felt like she understood me without us ever talking in detail about our pasts. I didn't want to do this, she was more part of the group than I was. I felt like I didn't deserve to be here.

Carol took off her own heavy watch and offered it to Rick, "It was Ed's anyway, and you'll be needing a new one since yours looks much better on her." She smiled through her sadness at me. He took the watch from her, looking down at it and saying thank you.

Rick handed her a set of car keys. Carol gave Rick one more final tragic look, opened the door to the dusty station wagon, threw her pack inside, and climbed in herself.

And then, simply, as though it was the easiest thing in the world, she followed the roundabout in the street and drove away.

Rick and I stared after her. After a minute or two of us looking the distance together, I held out my hand to him and found his. We stood there for a long time, saying nothing, not looking at each other, just holding hands.

And maybe because something terrible had just happened and I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air around him, I moved in to face him and snuggled into his chest, hugging him in the most comforting way I could imagine to. He nuzzled into my hair, holding me tightly back.

We drove back in utter silence, the air feeling thick. The lump in my throat still there. I wanted to ask Rick why he did it, but it wasn't the time yet. I noticed him glancing in the rear view mirror. Jesus, he wanted to see if she was following us. There was something about watching him look hopefully to that mirror that broke my heart. I watched him, watching the mirror, with tears rolling down my face. Rick had just lost someone else. He looked at me in a heartrending way and put his hand on top of mine. He checked the mirror again. But Carol wasn't back there. She was gone.

* * *

**A/N: I dont know if you guys listen to music while you read, but I had Fascinoma's "I'm Walking This Road Because You Stole My Car (Dont Go)" on when I wrote that last Carol scene. It was actually pretty damn sad. So then I re-read it with Dustin O'halloran's "Opus 36" on and almost made myself cry :/ **


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